White Nights Quotes

“I am a dreamer. I know so little of real life that I just can’t help re-living such moments as these in my dreams, for such moments are something I have very rarely experienced. I am going to dream about you the whole night, the whole week, the whole year.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

“May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life?”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

“Your hand is cold, mine is as hot as fire. How blind you are, Nastenka! ... Oh, how unbearable is the happy person at certain moments! But I couldn't be angry with you! ...”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky

“You know it will be sad to be left alone, utterly alone, and to have not even anything to regret - nothing, absolutely nothing... for all that you have lost, all that, all was nothing, stupid, simple, nullity, there has been nothing but dreams.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“[…] he is the artist of his own life, and created it for himself every hours to suit his latest whim.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“And I realise now, more than ever, that I have lost all my best years!”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“It is true I am a complete stranger to these people, but they are not strangers to me.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“Delighted that my girl had intelligence; that is never out of place in company with beauty.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“Delighted that my girl had intelligence; that is never out of place in company with beauty.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

“[...] he is the artist of his own life, and creates it for himself every hour to suit his latest whim.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

“And I realise now, more than ever, that I have lost all my best years!”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

“Do you know that, maybe, I shall leave off
grieving over the crime and sin of my life? for such a life is a crime and a sin. And do not imagine that I have
been exaggerating anything—for goodness’ sake don't
think that, Nastenka: for at times such misery comes
over me, such misery.... Because it begins to seem to me at such times that I am incapable of beginning a life in real life, because it has seemed to me that I have lost all touch, all instinct for the actual, the real; because at last I have cursed myself; because after my fantastic nights I have moments of returning sobriety, which are awful!”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“You know it will be sad to be left alone, utterly alone, and to have not even anything to regret - nothing, absolutely nothing... for all that you have lost, all that, all was nothing, stupid, simple nullity, there has been nothing but dreams.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights and Other Stories

“I walked along singing, for when I am happy I am always humming to myself like every happy man who has no friend or acquaintance with him to share his joy.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

“There is something in expressly touching in nature round Petersburg, when at the approach of spring she puts forth all her might, all the powers bestowed on her by Heaven, when she breaks into leaf, decks herself out and spangles herself with flowers.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

“Do you know that, maybe, I shall leave off grieving over the crime and sin of my life? for such a life is a crime and a sin. And do not imagine that I have been exaggerating anything—for goodness’ sake don't think that, Nastenka: for at times such misery comes over me, such misery.... Because it begins to seem to meat such times that I am incapable of beginning a life in real life, because it has seemed to me that I have lost all touch, all instinct for the actual, the real; because at last I have cursed myself; because after my fantastic nights I have moments of returning sobriety, which are awful!”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, White Nights

“I walked along singing, for when I am happy I am always humming to myself like every man who has no friend or acquaintance with him to share his joy.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“There is something inn expressly touching in nature round Petersburg, when at the approach of spring she puts forth all her might, a;; the powers bestowed on her by Heaven, when she break into lead, decks herself out and spangled herself with flowers.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“Do you know that, maybe, I shall leave off
grieving over the crime and sin of my life? for such a life
is a crime and a sin. And do not imagine that I have
been exaggerating anything—for goodness’ sake don't
think that, Nastenka: for at times such misery comes
over me, such misery.... Because it begins to seem to me
at such times that I am incapable of beginning a life in
real life, because it has seemed to me that I have lost all
touch, all instinct for the actual, the real; because at last
I have cursed myself; because after my fantastic nights I
have moments of returning sobriety, which are awful!
Meanwhile, you hear the whirl and roar of the crowd in
the vortex of life around you; you hear, you see, men
living in reality; you see that life for them is not forbid-
den, that their life does not float away like a dream, like
a vision; that their life is being eternally renewed, eter-
nally youthful, and not one hour of it is the same as
another; while fancy is so spiritless, monotonous to
vulgarity and easily scared, the slave of shadows, of the
idea, the slave of the first cloud that shrouds the sun,
and overcasts with depression the true Petersburg heart
so devoted to the sun—and what is fancy in depression!”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“I must let myself flow in a river of words, or I shall choke”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights: And Other Stories

“I represent everything that distances Richard Pryor from Peoria, Illinois' ghettos.”
― Jennifer Lee, Tarnished Angel: Surviving in the Dark Curve of Drugs, Violence, Sex, and Fame : A Memoir

“I see us as a black and white version of John and Yoko, a duet of magic and productivity. It feels as though it will last forever. Richard Pryor has finally found his panacea, me.
People look at me as Richard's deliverance: he is the tragic, self- destructive freak no longer.”
― Jennifer Lee, Tarnished Angel: Surviving in the Dark Curve of Drugs, Violence, Sex, and Fame : A Memoir

“As I listen to their jive, I try to find my way around the street mind, the black man's mind. Feeling left out, like an ostracized kid at a playground, I try to join in on the "get down" flavor of the dialogue by calling Richard Pryor a nigger.”
― Jennifer Lee, Tarnished Angel: Surviving in the Dark Curve of Drugs, Violence, Sex, and Fame : A Memoir

“Would you believe, when you look at him, dear Nastenka, that indeed he has never known her whom he loves so in his frenzied daydreams?”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky

“O Nastenka, Nastenka ! Savez-vous que vous m'avez, et pour longtemps, réconcilié avec moi-même? Savez-vous que, dorénavant, je ne penserai plus autant de mal de moi, comme cela m'arrivait de le faire ? Savez-vous que, peut-être, je cesserai de souffrir d'avoir commis un crime, un péché dans ma vie, parce qu'une vie comme la mienne est un crime, un péché ? Et ne croyez pas que j'exagère quoi que ce soit, au nom du ciel, ne croyez pas cela, Nastenka, parce que je vis parfois des minutes d'une souffrance telle, oh, d'une souffrance... Parce que je commence à croire dans ces minutes que je ne serai jamais capable de commencer à vivre une vraie vie [...]”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Les Nuits blanches / Le Sous-sol

“À présent que je suis assis auprès de vous et que je vous parle, j'ai même peur de penser à l'avenir, parce que, dans l'avenir, je retrouverai la solitude, cette vie renfermée, inutile; et à quoi donc pourrai-je rêver si, près de vous, dans le réel, j'ai été si heureux !”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Les Nuits blanches / Le Sous-sol

“Le jour d'aujourd'hui fut triste, pluvieux, sans éclaircie, un peu comme ma vieillesse future. Des pensées si étranges m'oppressent, des sensations si sombres, des questions qui me restent encore si obscures s'amassent dans ma tête, et, je ne sais pas, je n'ai pas la force, pas le désir de les résoudre. Ce n'est pas à moi de résoudre tout cela!

Aujourd'hui, nous ne nous verrons pas. Hier, quand nous nous sommes quittés, les nuages commençaient à recouvrir le ciel, et le brouillard montait. Je lui dis qu'il allait faire mauvais le lendemain; elle ne répondit rien; elle ne voulait rien dire contre elle-même; pour elle, ce jour était brillant et clair, pas un nuage ne devait voiler son bonheur.”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Les Nuits blanches / Le Sous-sol

“— Attendre quoi ? Comment ?
— Je l'aime; mais ça passera, ça doit passer, ça ne peut pas ne pas passer; ça passe déjà, je le sens... Comment savoir ? Peut-être ce sera fini aujourd'hui même, parce que je le déteste, parce qu'il s'est moqué de moi, alors que vous, vous avez pleuré avec moi, ici, parce que vous ne m'avez pas rejetée, comme lui, parce que vous m'aimez, et lui, il ne m'aime pas, parce que, moi aussi, à la fin, je vous aime... Oui ! je vous aime ! je vous aime comme vous m'aimez; et je vous l'ai dit moi-même, la première, vous l'avez entendu - et si je vous aime, c'est que vous êtes mieux que lui, que vous êtes plus honnête que lui, c'est parce que lui, lui, lui...
La pauvre petite était tellement émue qu'elle ne ter- mina pas sa phrase, elle posa sa tête sur mon épaule, puis sur ma poitrine, et elle pleura amèrement. Je la consolais, j'essayais de lui parler, mais elle n'arrivait pas à s'arrêter; elle ne faisait que me serrer la main et me disait, au milieu de ses sanglots: "Attendez, attendez; je vais arrêter, tout de suite ! Je veux vous dire.. ne croyez pas que ces larmes... ce n'est rien, une faiblesse, attendez, ça va passer..." A la fin, elle cessa, sécha ses larmes et nous nous remîmes à marcher. Je voulais parler, mais elle me demanda encore longtemps d'attendre. Nous nous tûmes... A la fin, elle rassembla tout son courage et se mit à parler...”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Les Nuits blanches / Le Sous-sol

“Mes nuits s'achevèrent ce matin. Un jour sinistre. La pluie tombait, elle battait tristement mes carreaux; il faisait sombre dans ma chambre ; gris dehors. J'avais mal à la tête, le vertige; la fièvre me parcourait le corps.
— Une lettre pour toi, mon bon monsieur, par la poste urbaine, le facteur vient de passer, murmura Matriona au-dessus de moi.
— Une lettre ! de qui ? m'écriai-je, bondissant de ma chaise.
— Ben j'en sais rien, mon bon monsieur, peut-être que c'est écrit dessus...
Je brisai le cachet. Une lettre d'elle !”
― Fyodor Dostoevsky, Les Nuits blanches / Le Sous-sol

“...Or was his destiny from the start
To be but just one moment
Near your heart?...”
― Ivan Turgenev